


From The Window (Night guests)

by jungfrau24



Series: Phantom Songs AU! [2]
Category: Gravity Falls, Rick and Morty
Genre: 70-s AU, M/M, Mystery Trio!AU, band!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-28 19:54:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8460880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jungfrau24/pseuds/jungfrau24
Summary: My first FiddleRick in that AU. Or, how things began in a first place...and, they did not begin well. Let's say, Rick has limits  problem, and Fiddles shows him his place. For now.Side story of my Phantom Songs AU





	

\- …Alright ya eggheads, I’m outta of here to my night shift. Never thought I gonna say this, but this time I’m so glad I have one! I had enough of nerd talking for my entire life. You two are really carried out today, you nerdasses! - Stanley chuckled and started to tie his sneakers laces.

\- Shush, Stanley. All who is present here knows, that this representation is entirely inaccurate. – Ford adjusted his glasses and turned a page of his course notes. – Fiddleford and I are actually an easy going people, who can appreciate a good joke.

\- Did you hear that, Fidds? – Stan burst into laughing. – This smartass is trying to cover his nerdiness by more nerd talking! Man, this is lame.

\- Suck a carrot, Stan. – Fiddleford folded his fingers into a taunting gesture and waved it next to Stan’s face. – We’ve got a future here, while you’re going to stuck in that bar for a long time.

\- If it was a mockery, that was pitiful. – Stan snorted and tied a red bandana around his head. – ‘Cause I never wanted to waste my entire life to seat hunched over books and being covered with dust ‘n moss that inhabits every library. Yuck! – Stan sticks his tongue and grimaced.

\- Stop goofing around, Stanley. – Ford stood up from his chair, stretched his stuffed arms and narrowed his eyes. – There is no doubt, that we have different life paths, but why we should argue about it? 

\- No offense, Sixer. Just dry facts. – Stanley gave Ford an encouraging smile. – The only thing I care about is your happiness. For now, I see that you happy as a rabbit who found a field of carrots. But there is no chance, that I gonna miss the opportunity to throw a phrase or two about the weird stuff that you two doing here… Hey! Ford, that was unnecessary!

\- Sorry Stanley. – Ford chuckled and came next to him to pick up the pillow. – But I must admit, that we have a good influence on you. See for yourself, your vocabulary was significantly enriched. 

\- Yeah, sure. Whatever you say, bro - bro. – Stanley yawned, and put his jacket over the shoulder. – Yo, Fidds! I know that you and my nerd brother are going to stuck here for a long time. So, you can use my room for a nightstand.

\- Thank you, Stanley. – Fiddelford smiled. – Sorry for the inconvenience.

\- No problem, man. I will not be able to forgive myself if there something is gonna happened to you, our little nerd friend. – Stanley wiggled his eyebrows. – Or, to your carrot.

\- Shut it, Stan. – Fidds straightened his legs out of the armchair and squinted. – Trust me, this carrot is protected by its package. Unlike your corn…

\- What was that?

\- Alright, that’s enough! Stanley, you will be late to your shift! – Ford pushed his brother toward the door of their flat. – Be careful this time with the customers. Wait… you braided your hair!

\- Yes, otherwise the customers will get their beer with hairs… See ya later, nerdcakes! – Stan walked past the door, turned his head and added. - Oh, and good luck on your exam tomorrow.

When Stan’s steps sound dissolved down the staircase, Fidds sighed, and asked Ford:

-Is he always like that?

-Who, Stanley? - Ford responded absently. - Since we were kids. These scorns about my studies were a part of our daily encounters. Anyhow, I'm glad he managed to find his path. For now, at least. 

\- If you say so. - Fiddleford shrugged. - Have you seen Rick recently?

\- I haven't seen him for more than two weeks. – Ford sat back on the sofa. – Maybe he is on road trip or something. Why are you asking?

\- Well, there is a question here, that bothers me in this test. So I thought, maybe Rick can help me to resolve it in an elegant way as possible. - Fidds scratched his head and tapped on the book page with his pen. - Even thought that he didn't finish his degree, he is smart enough to figure out how to resolve this.

\- Let me see. - Ford looked over Fiddleford’s shoulder. – Yes, that one is tricky…

\- Wait. First, we need more coffee. We have a long night before us. - Fiddles stand on his feet and took the kettle from the table. - And, some sandwiches. I cannot stand the fact, that you and Stanley living on coffee and cigarettes. Sometimes, on beer. 

-Thank you, Fiddleford. - Ford gave him a sad smile and returned to his studies.

***  
Fiddleford sat on the edge of Stan’s bed and looked around. It was two in the morning, and Stanford told him to take a rest before their exams, otherwise it will be a complete disaster. They wished each other a good night and went to their rooms. It was not the first time, he was staying in Pines twins place for a sleepover, but this one was different. Stan’s room was a sanctum sanctorum space in their flat, and no one was allowed - except Ford - to enter this space. 

It was much smaller than Ford’s room but had enough space for a single person. Inside the room, there were a chair, a commode, a couple of bookshelves and a single bed. A punching bag was hanging in the room corner. The room's wall was decorated with posters. Near the room door, on a knob, was hanging Stan's biggest pride - Gibson EB-3, that he managed to get on a garage sale. Stanley clothes were tossed everywhere, and a thick layer of dust covered the furniture. It seemed, that the room’s owner was a rare guest here. No wonder, though, because even on weekends, the man was extremely busy – since he was the main provider of this house, he worked as much as could. Ford tried to help too, but Stanley told him to focus on his studies, and do not worry about their income.

Fiddles stripped from his sweater and shirt, took his shoes off, laid down on the bed and sighed. He tried to fall asleep, but the thoughts took over. While staring at a ceiling, Fiddles was thinking about tomorrow's exam, because if he fails, he should go back home to his parents. Three years ago, Fiddleford made a deal with them: if he succeeds to finish his degree in three years without failing, he can do whatever he wanted, but if don't– he will return home, and become a priest, just like his father wanted to. It was a long time running conflict - Fiddleford wanted to be a computer engineer, while his parents, a deeply religious Protestants wanted him to become a preacher, and run their hog farm in Tennessee. Fiddleford always doubted about god existence, but in the end of the day, the conflict focused on a lifestyle in general, than on religion solely. He adjusted the chain of his baptizing cross, he wore as a reminder, and turned to his side, determined to pass the exam in the best way as possible.

***  
\- S-stanley…

After this husky, creaky whisper followed a loud burping, that filled the space with an intoxicating odor of alcohol mixed with nicotine and weed traces.

\- Who is that? – Fiddleford pulled the blanket closer and looked into the darkness inside the room with horror. – How did you get in here?

\- *urph*… Y-you’re not Stanley. – the voice admitted with disappointment. – W-who the fuck are you?

\- Fiddleford Mcguket… - Fidds said his name slowly. He finally recognized his night visitor’s cranky voice. – Rick, is that you?

\- Fiddleford! – With an enthusiastic yell, a lean, lanky figure landed next to him, without bothering to strip off his clothes or to take off his shoes. – Hola, mi querido amigo! ¿Cómo va?

\- I’m fine, thank you. – Fiddleford managed to calm down his breath and relaxed a bit. – What are you doing here in such late hour?

-I-I was looking for Stanley, but he didn’t answer to his home number, the door was…*urph* locked, and no one heard t-the door bell, so I c-came through the window…

\- The window? – Fidds raised his eyebrow in disbelieve.

\- T-the flat is placed at first floor. – Oh, that Rick’s tone of *are you fucking stupid bro*. – And I…urph…not that drunk.

\- Stanley has a night shift today. – Fiddleford yawned, and laid back. – So, you can go home. Or, if you want to, I'll give you a blanket and you can sleep on the couch...

\- N-no, that’s okay. – The bed creaked, and without warning, Rick pulled him into a tight embrace and buried his face in his hair.

\- What are you doing, Rick? – Fidds tried to push him away, but Rick's grip was tight.

\- Shhh… - the other man’s hand carefully stroked Fiddleford’s belly and traveled south. – Be quiet.

\- Don’t you dare, Rick. – the blonde man started to wiggle from his bear hug. - I'm not into men, and you know it!

\- Oh, come *urph*… on! – Rick’s voice became angry. – Y-you are such a sissy, it’s not g-going to hurt… Ow!

Rick squirmed, hissed with pain and tilted his head back. Fidds viciously smirked – the *pinch enemy’s vulnerable spot* trick worked again.

\- I've warned you. – Fiddleford managed to turn his face to Rick and slammed his head into other man's nose. Rick lost his balance, released his grip and fell from the bed with a loud *thump*. Mcguket hunched over the bed edge, and asked in concerned tone:

\- Are you okay?

In response, he heard an indecipherable sound, that resembled the curse *sonofabitch*.

\- Rick?

No answer  
.  
Fiddleford jumped from the bed and rushed to the light switch. The room filled with yellow light, and he saw Rick. The guy sat on the floor, with a hand on his face. A trail of blood traveled down from his nose and stained his light gray hoodie.

\- Oh, sweet lord! I…I’ll take you to the emergency room! – Fiddleford took his shirt from the chair. – Tilt your head back, or you are gonna choked by your own blood…

\- Dat’s ogay. – Rick got up on his legs and leaned against the wall. – Wust… welp we oben de flat door… De emgerzy room iz dot war away…*hick*…

\- Okay, just hold on, please…

-…sweet Moses, Fidds! It's five o’clock in the morning! – The door of Stan’s room opened with a *slam* and Stanford’s solid figure appeared in the doorway. – Oh…oh, what’s going on here?

\- There is no time to explain! – Fiddleford’s voice was full of panic. – Rick needs a medical assistance right now!

\- I call Stanley. – Ford turned back and ran into the living room. After dialing and waiting on a line for a bit, Stanford started to speak:

\- Hello? *Night at Berger’s? * Can you please call Stanley Pines to the phone?...

Fiddleford sat on the chair, brushed his hands through his hair and moaned with despair:

\- We’re toasted.


End file.
